


Tears to Fill the Sea

by HarbingersSeclude



Category: Xenoblade Chronicles
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Femslash, Hurt/Comfort, I just really want Melia to lose it sorry, Light Xenoblade spoilers, One Shot, Survivor Guilt, Xenoblade Chronicles Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:48:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24731083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarbingersSeclude/pseuds/HarbingersSeclude
Summary: Melia’s survivor’s guilt and pressure from her family has left her head spinning. She convinces the group to take a rest for the evening, slipping away in the night to wrestle with her guilt. Her emotional numbness changes drastically when she returns to camp for a surprise.
Relationships: Melia Ancient | Melia Antiqua/Sharla
Kudos: 8





	Tears to Fill the Sea

The group of six pressed onward, moving past the outskirts of Alcamoth and towards the shores of Eryth Sea. They left the city late in the evening, and before long the sun had set. The band of heroes had prior experience with trekking across various landscapes under the light of the stars, however, one individual in particular raised her voice in objection.

“Ahem,” Melia cleared her throat. Everyone stopped walking and turned to face her.

“Is everything alright, your Highness,” Reyn teased, and immediately recoiled feeling the sharp blow of Sharla’s elbow in his abdomen.

“Go ahead, Melia,” Shulk replied. 

“I believe it would be in our best interest to pause here for the night and rest ourselves,” Melia suggested, with an almost demanding tone simmering underneath.

“Here?” Dunban inquired. “We’re rather close to the city. If you believe we should rest, we should head back now so we—“

“No,” the High-Entian woman interjected. “No, that would only serve to reverse the progress we’ve made thus far.” Confused faces plagued the crowd as most members flashed passing, concerned glances to one another. Sharla, however, rested her hand on her chin; fixing her unfocused gaze on the frail royal woman. While she scanned Melia for the answer behind her sudden choice, the group decided to fulfill the white-haired woman’s wishes. Before long, camp had been set up for the night, with Melia insisting to take first watch, followed by Sharla, then Riki. 

Most everyone slept soundly given the conditions of the outdoors. The ground surrounding the sands of the Eryth Sea’s beaches was surprisingly lush, soft, and comfortable to sit and lay on. Melia sat in front of their campfire, knees pressed to her chest and arms secured around them. She sunk her head into her lap, mind whirling with too many thoughts that sleep would never free her from. She spotted a transporter off into the distance, checked on the group over her shoulder, and quietly pushed herself off the ground. She unclipped her staff from her belt, and raised it upwards.

“Hypnotize,” she whispered, and in an instant a light shower of ether fell over the party, ensuring that she would have plenty of time to rummage through her thoughts undisturbed. She swiftly and soundlessly fled to the nearest transporter. She knew her way around the area by heart, and in a matter of minutes she arrived at the Syrath Lighthouse. The location was completely secluded, and its only occupants were the royal princess and her seemingly endless guilt.

Melia’s every footstep felt heavy and lethargic. In her eyes, it felt as if the bodies of every slain High-Entian soldier were latched to her limbs, dragging her down with them. Gripping the steel rails of the platform, she closed her eyes, recalling the words of her father telling her the debt she owed to her fallen brethren. That any frustration felt should be channeled into vengeance. For Aizel, and Garan, and Hogard, and Damil who all could not return home to their families, and who’s blood now stained the ground of Makna Forest. Her grip tightened on the banister, knuckles white with tension. Guilt consumed the shaken princess as she contemplated returning to each of their families and begging for their forgiveness. How was it fair for her to live and for them to die? Surely the life of one person does not hold more value than that of four? How could they ever forgive her selfishness? In that moment, Melia began to understand her father’s intentions behind his cruel words — the idea that she has lost the right to any any sense of self. The notion that her fortunate position as a survivor is now forfeit to the unfortunate position of avenging the fallen, and upholding what they could not. Such a chilling thought brought her to tears. She did not sob; rather, her brows furrowed slightly as small droplets dripped down into the sea below. She felt numb watching her tears fill the Eryth Sea. The weight of the guilt, she thought, would certainly drag her down and drown her in the depths below. 

Melia knew she did not want these feelings, and a part of her understood that she did not deserve them either; however, the weight and oppression of the guilt she felt and the cold treatment from her family said otherwise. She shook her head to break her from her depressive trance, pulled herself from the railing and, dragging her feet across the ground, made her way back to the campsite.

The High-Entian woman’s eyelids were heavy and her movement sluggish, clutching to the occasional tree for stability. She pushed past some branches and finally arrived back to the company of her companions, only to find an unexpected sight. Sharla had assumed Melia’s previous position, with the rest of the group still fast asleep under the hypnosis spell. The young Homs woman, however, appeared largely unaffected, sitting with her back to the fire and raising her head up to greet her friend. Melia stood utterly dumbfounded, lips quivering, and legs shaking. She barely mustered up the energy to mutter the word “how,” to which Sharla responded by showing her a broken cure bullet in between two of her fingers. The frail woman’s vision began to blur as tears obscured her sight. The team’s sniper immediately propelled herself off the ground and towards the crying woman. Melia hardly made two steps forward before collapsing towards the ground, instantly swooped up into the arms of her dearest companion. 

Sharla’s touch had always brought up such confusing yet warm feelings within her, but this absolved most if not all confusion she had left. Alcamoth no longer felt like home; it had not felt that way for quite some time. Home was now in the company of her dearest friends, and she felt the safest in Sharla’s embrace. Her touch was reassuring, calming, and a constant reminder that she was unconditionally loved. Melia buried her face into Sharla’s chest, desperately gripping the back of the sniper’s vest as she fell into a heaving sob. Sharla wrapped one arm around Melia’s back and the other gently gripping the back of her head.

“It was my turn to take watch, you know,” Sharla whispered to her grieving and wailing companion. She placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Now it’s my turn to watch over you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I personally don’t think Melia’s one to break down and cry, but I really like the idea that she’s emotionally drained but when she sees Sharla — someone who she loves and loves her back — she just utterly loses it. Also posting fic in one-go really late at night again whoop whoop let’s goooooo!


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